


The Spoils

by Riona



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-07 00:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riona/pseuds/Riona
Summary: Scenes from a world where the Animorphs are victors of the Hunger Games.Well,mostof them are victors.





	The Spoils

They’ve started putting Marco together with the victor of the year before his for press appearances. He doesn’t know why; maybe they think it’s hilarious that she’s so much taller than him. Whatever the reason, it’s terrifying, because the victor of the year before his is even more of a psycho than you’d expect from someone who killed twenty-three people to be standing where she is.

Okay, some of those twenty-three people killed each other. But Rachel personally killed more of her fellow tributes than any other victor in history. There are Careers, and then there are _Careers_. If Rachel had been born into a world without the Hunger Games, Marco’s pretty sure she’d have invented them.

The Capitol is nuts about her. Maybe he’s meant to take it as some kind of compliment, the two of them being paired up. It feels more like a threat.

They’re sitting backstage in silence, waiting for Flickerman to call them on. Marco realises too late that he’s staring at her. She’s good-looking – _seriously_ good-looking – but all he can see when he looks at her is that final shot of her in the arena, covered in blood and screaming triumphantly.

He looks up to meet her eyes.

“You want to be careful,” Rachel says.

Oh, okay. It’s not just Snow threatening him; he’s getting actual personal threats from the most murderous person in seventy years of murdering. Awesome.

“I’m always careful,” Marco says. “I mean, yeah, there was that one time I entered a murder competition, but other than that? Mr Cautious.”

Rachel rolls her eyes. “I’m talking about interviews.”

What? Yeah, interviews are dangerous, he knows that, but he really _is_ careful there. They’re holding his mother hostage for his good behaviour.

That’s the possibility he’s clinging to, at least. That he just has to get through this to see her again. That she’ll be back after this round of television appearances.

“What am I doing wrong?” Marco asks. “I’m too charming and handsome, right? It’s not exactly something I can switch off.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to,” Rachel says.

Marco stares at her. “You think I’m too charming and handsome?” he asks, after a moment, just to be sure. Even though it seems like a question that’s going to get him stabbed in the neck.

“I don’t get the appeal,” Rachel says, “but the Capitol loves all your stupid jokes. Cut down on it.”

“Hey, I’m not trying to show anyone up here,” Marco says, holding up his hands.

“Wow,” Rachel says. “You’re an idiot. Do you actually not _know_ what happens when you get too popular?”

Marco opens his mouth to retort, and then he closes it again. Does she mean...?

Yeah, he’s heard rumours. But he always kind of assumed it was only the girls who had to deal with that.

Rachel raises her eyebrows. “Oh, good, it looks like you actually _are_ capable of shutting up.”

Marco looks curiously at her. He’s always assumed Rachel was eating this stuff up, the glamour, the TV appearances. He thought she was willingly in the Capitol’s pocket.

She’s... trying to protect him?

“I’ll be careful,” he says, after a moment.

“You’d better,” she mutters.

-

It’s been a full day of Flickerman interviews, and there’s a small party for the interviewees afterwards. Marco’s been skipping most social events for victors; he’s not sure he wants to be surrounded by people as fucked up as he is.

But he can’t stop thinking about Rachel. The realisation that maybe she’s not all bloodlust and blonde hair, maybe there’s more to her than that.

Trying to get to know her better feels a lot like sticking his hand in a fire. But he’s lived through worse odds.

Rachel’s leaning against a wall at the party, talking to Jake, the victor from two years ago. Another Career. Marco’s pretty sure they’re both from District Two.

Marco’s from Three himself. It’s weird; the numbers are so close, the culture is so different. Marco’s district is _not_ full of kids itching to throw themselves into the arena, because that would be nuts.

Jake’s pretty scary himself. A leader. The whole Career pack just naturally seemed to fall under his command. Wiped out everyone without a casualty under his leadership. And then Jake killed them all.

And now Marco’s going to go up and say hi.

What is he doing?

“Oh, here he is,” Rachel says, catching Marco’s eye as he approaches. “You’re going to remember my advice, right?”

“Are you going to kill me if I forget?” Marco asks.

Rachel shrugs. Gestures at Jake with the back of her hand. “You know my cousin?”

They’re _cousins?_ Wow. What a family. Apparently good looks and disembowelling screaming sixteen-year-olds are genetic.

“I’m Jake,” Jake says, offering a hand, like anyone in Panem doesn’t know who he is.

“You were really good at killing everyone,” Marco says, accepting the handshake. “Congratulations.”

Jake looks at him for a moment. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

True. No moral high ground here. Marco used traps, mostly, but it’s not like the people he killed ended up any less dead.

“Oh, hey, Cassie’s at a party for once!” Rachel says, waving someone over.

“ _Cassie?_ ” Marco asks. “We’re talking Cassie, the Angel of the Arena?”

“You know, mostly her friends just call her Cassie,” Rachel says.

Marco looks around. That is definitely the Angel of the Arena, dressed in white and coming their way.

Okay, maybe there’s _some_ moral high ground. Cassie, the Angel of the Arena, victor of the year before Jake’s. District Eleven. The only Hunger Games victor in history not to take a single human life. She hid, she hunted, she just plain outsurvived the rest of the tributes. The Games lasted almost two months.

Jake kind of had an advantage the next year. A lot of the tributes thought maybe they could get away with doing the same thing. The Careers under Jake’s command ran them down without breaking a sweat.

“You guys know _Cassie?_ ” Marco asks. “There are some wildly differing levels of pacifism in that relationship.”

“Hey,” Cassie says, reaching them. “Oh, you’re Marco, right?”

Marco suddenly finds himself weirdly flustered. Cassie’s a celebrity among celebrities, a symbol for anyone who thinks, hey, maybe killing people isn’t that great. Should he... shake her hand? Maybe she won’t want to touch him, knowing what he did in that arena.

Rachel hugs her. And Rachel’s done worse. Maybe he doesn’t need to freak out so much.

“Marco, yeah,” Marco says. “Newest member of the cool kids’ club. Hi.”

“Cassie helped me out after my Games,” Jake explains. “I couldn’t really figure out what happened next. She made it easier.”

Marco guesses that makes sense. Jake’s a Career. You spend your whole life training up to go into that arena; what do you do once the Games are over?

“And then she was pretty much the only person brave enough to talk to me after I won,” Rachel says. “Except the Careers, and we know _they’re_ all dicks.” She sends Jake a smirk.

“Wow,” Marco says, looking over at Cassie. “I didn’t think you’d be taking all these vicious killers under your wing. I thought you’d be above us.”

Cassie frowns. “I’m not... I’m not _better_ than anyone.”

“I kind of think you actually are,” Marco says. “I’ve murdered people. You haven’t.”

“You’re wrong,” Cassie says. “I killed people.”

“I missed it if you did,” Marco says. “Pretty sure the whole of Panem missed it if you did.”

“I survived,” Cassie says. “I knew only one person could get out of the arena, and I still fought to be that person. Living in that place was an act of violence.”

“Right,” Marco says. “See, I shot a guy through the throat with a crossbow, and somehow that feels _more_ like an act of violence to me.”

There’s a beat where they’re just looking at each other. The chatter of other victors in the background suddenly seems very far away.

“It’s just hit me that maybe I’m not making the best first impression,” Marco says.

Cassie laughs. The tension doesn’t break, exactly, but it slackens a little. “Maybe we should just try this introduction thing again.”

Of course he’d immediately embarrass himself in front of someone he respects. He’s sought out interviews with Cassie; he hasn’t had that kind of interest in any other victor. Something about her resonated with him, even if he knows by now that you say the words they put in your mouth.

Cassie’s not comfortable in front of cameras; anyone can see that. She’ll wear the white clothes and the angel wings, but she can’t project the otherworldliness people want from her; she’s too grounded for that. Too real for the ridiculous daydream world of the Capitol. If _Marco_ had been the one who’d ended up with the angel branding, he’d be having a blast with it.

Still, though, she didn’t kill anyone. It was something Marco admired. He used to tell himself that, if he ended up in that arena, he’d follow in her footsteps.

He couldn’t live up to her example, in the end.

-

It’s strange, interesting, suddenly knowing people from other districts. Different places, different experiences, different customs.

But at the heart of each of them is the same experience: they walked into that arena with twenty-three other people, and they walked out the only survivor. By this point, Marco probably has more in common with Rachel the Ripper than with anyone from his own district. It’s a weird thought.

He didn’t take pleasure in it. He doesn’t think he took pleasure in it.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asks Rachel, quietly, during some downtime in the middle of a joint photoshoot.

Rachel snorts. “Are you scared of me?”

“Hey, I asked first. You answer my question, _then_ I answer yours.”

Rachel pauses.

“Sometimes,” she says.

Marco nods. “Yeah, I think that’s my answer too.”

-

Since Rachel warned him about it, Marco hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the rumours of popular victors being rented out. Is that something the people he knows have to deal with? Rachel, Cassie, Jake? Can he ask? Should he ask?

He isn’t sure he wants to know. If they say yes, it’ll just loom more inevitably in his future.

In the end, though, he has to at least approach the topic. He can’t deal with only having these thoughts inside his head.

He brings it up when he’s walking down a noisy street with Cassie and Jake. His district specialises in technology; he knows the security cameras aren’t that good at picking out individual voices.

“The first time Rachel talked to me,” he says, low, “she was warning me about... the dangers of becoming too popular. I was wondering if you knew anything about, uh, avoiding those.”

Cassie looks at him with a sympathy that he does not find reassuring.

“I don’t know if there’s anything foolproof,” she says. “But they’ll want to create a certain image of you as a victor. You could try to steer that image towards something that...” She makes a face. “This is a horrible way to say it, but it’s how they think. Something that makes them want to ‘preserve your purity’ in the public eye.”

“Like what?”

“They don’t try to sell me,” Cassie says. “The advantage of having this ‘perfect innocence’ branding, I guess. Of course, that means I’m not allowed to have my own romantic relationships either, but...” She shrugs. “I’m better off than a lot of people.”

She half-glances over at Jake. It’s a tiny movement, barely there, but it’s enough for Marco to notice. Is she interested in Jake, or is Jake one of the less fortunate people she’s talking about, the ones trapped in an endless tour of Capitol bedrooms?

It’s probably best not to ask.

It’s definitely too late for Marco to become the perfect innocent.

-

Victors aren’t exempt from watching the Games, of course.

All the past victors tend to be in the Capitol this time of year, for non-stop news interviews: _Who do you think will win this year? What advice would you give to our fresh new Hunger Games hopefuls?_ (“Don’t die” is all Marco can offer when he’s asked, and in a way he feels like it might be bad advice.)

They’ve arranged to get together for the kick-off of the actual event: Marco, Cassie, Rachel, Jake, in one of their hotel's many viewing rooms. If you’d told Marco one day he’d be hanging out socially with Rachel the Ripper, and the cold-eyed leader who systematically killed his teammates...

Still. Who hasn’t murdered a bunch of kids, huh?

It’s a special year, tributes picked by chance only. Every ten years there’s a Games with no volunteers allowed. Careers have to trust to the lottery like everyone else. It’s weird to picture people hoping that they _will_ get picked.

Marco watched some tapes of past Games in preparation for going into the arena. The no-volunteer Games normally last longer: no experienced killers clearing out the opposition. More amateurs, more drawn-out deaths. The Capitol loves them; it’s more exciting when districts one, two and four aren’t near-guaranteed a win.

It’s fucked up, a handful of trained-up Careers hunting down everyone else. But a bunch of scared kids, just trying to kill each other without wanting to do it or even knowing how? He kind of thinks that might be worse.

The room feels tense when he walks in. Which isn’t really a surprise; they’re about to watch a load of murder. He’s tense himself, not sure how he’ll handle the first Games he’s going to be watching after _living_ it.

“He could make it,” Cassie’s saying.

Jake and Rachel glance at each other. They don’t speak.

“No Careers,” Cassie says. “It’s the year he might have a chance.”

Marco can almost hear a note of judgement behind it. She’s talking to two Careers herself.

Rachel swears. “It’s the only year he could have ended up in that arena. The one year he had to worry about the lottery, the _one_ —”

“What’s going on?” Marco asks.

Cassie hesitates. Whatever’s going on, she obviously doesn’t feel she should be the one to say it.

“We know one of the tributes from our district,” Jake says.

District Two? The male tribute, Marco guesses, if they’ve been saying _he_.

He tries to think. Toby, right? Tobias? The blond one?

He’s kind of scrawny. Looks uncomfortable in his own skin, even more than you’d expect from someone who knows that skin’s about to be dropped into a murderfest. The news reporters think it’s hilarious; all these muscled, expert killers keep coming from District Two, but take away the volunteering and they’re the same as anyone else.

“I always figured Careers just spent time with other Careers,” Marco says.

“You need a friend outside it.” Rachel sits on the couch. She somehow manages to do this ferociously. “Everyone you know just talking about going out in a blaze of glory, it gets exhausting. _Someone_ you know has to stay alive, or who’s gonna remember you?”

Jake nods. “Tobias was always the one who was supposed to outlive us.”

What is Marco supposed to say? They’re victors, sure; no one’s going to forget them now. Marco knows he won’t. He _could_ say that, but somehow he’s not sure it’ll improve the fact they’re about to watch a friend of theirs get killed.

Still. Maybe they’ll get lucky. Jake and Rachel are cousins, after all, and they both made it to victory; what are the odds of that?

-

Tobias dies in the first rush for the Cornucopia. Stabbed twice in the back and once in the neck. It’s hard to tell, everything’s so hectic in the first couple of minutes, but he might be the first victim of the Games.

Rachel doesn’t say anything. She stands up, in complete silence, and kicks the television so hard it breaks.

Marco slips out, to report the broken TV to the hotel staff before it’s discovered and they’re charged with non-watching. He’s glad to have an excuse to leave.

There’s a part of him whispering that, when he comes back, he’ll find Jake and Cassie dead. Rachel killed so many people in that arena; she’s furious and grieving and murder runs thick as blood in her veins. She’s going to lash out, and she’s going to kill them.

It’s a constant low-down certainty around his new friends, a feeling he can’t shake. Not with Cassie, but whenever he’s around the District Two cousins. They were trained in this. The killing doesn’t stay in the arena; it’s inside them. They’ll kill again. They’re probably going to kill Marco, eventually.

And yet they draw him like a magnet. He can’t stay away.

He’s a murderer as well, of course. Is Cassie wary around him in the same way he is around Jake and Rachel, wondering when he’s going to break?

-

They’re still alive, when he finds the courage to return to the room. Rachel’s in tears; they’re silent tears, and angry, and somehow the sight of them still scares Marco more than all the blood she shed in the arena.

They’re still alive. How long is that going to last?

He kind of feels like he’s still in the Games. He’s not sure anyone ever really gets out.


End file.
